


Gifted

by TW Lewis (gardendoor)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-11
Updated: 2005-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardendoor/pseuds/TW%20Lewis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair needs to find Simon the perfect birthday present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gifted

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: I don't own them, I just lease them month-to-month.

Joel was the first to notice Blair slumped miserably over his desk. "Blair? Are you all right?"

Blair winced. "Yeah, man, just wracking my brains over here. Simon's birthday is coming up again, and I never know what to get him. I keep getting him these exotic things I think he'll like and he gets this pained look on his face and mumbles something nice about it. I suck at birthday presents."

"No you don't!" said Henri. "I loved that mask you got me for mine; the one that's supposed to inflame the blood? I hung it over my bed, great conversation piece with the ladies."

Blair choked. "Um, Henri, that's a war mask, not a fertility mask."

"No wonder your girlfriends never stick around," Megan laughed.

"Come on, guys, help me think. I really want to get him something nice, thank him for everything he did to get me into the Academy. I mean, any cigars good enough to impress him are way out of my price range, and the man's got enough coffee stored away to choke a horse."

Silence descended on the bullpen.

"Simon's just ... a meat and potatoes kind of guy," said Megan. "He likes simple things, and most of what he likes, he already has."

"The main thing is not to get him something he hates," said Henri. "That we can help with. What's the worst birthday present ever?"

"Ties," Rafe said instantly. "Everyone always gets me clothes, and they don't have my sense of style. I have a whole drawer full of ties I hate and can't return."

"Hey, give them to me!" said Blair.

"Sandy, the day you wear a tie is the day I french Simon," Megan laughed.

"No, it's for a friend of mine," Blair explained. "She does this amazing stuff with duct tape, and she's moving on to silk ties--"

"You can get arrested for that," Rafe snickered.

"Clothes, man, she designs clothes. She used to make them out of duct tape, but now she's making shirts and pants and these sexy little schoolgirl kilts out of silk ties. Hand 'em over, Rafe, and I promise I'll have someone come model them here when they're done."

"Sold, to the man in the front row!" Rafe crowed. "I'll bring them in tomorrow."

"Joel? Your turn. Worst present ever," said Henri.

"My brother -- the one who's an air traffic controller? -- gave me one of those old fashioned ticking alarm clocks," said Joel. "Like I didn't get enough ticking packages on the bomb squad. Got him back good, though; I sent him a computer virus for his birthday. Every time he went on his home computer, after an hour or so his screen would go black and he'd lose all his data. He had nightmares for a month."

"Oh man!" said Blair. "The worst present I got was actually from Jim. I was having trouble sleeping, so he gave me this CD of wolves howling, you know, background noise to fall asleep to. Which was really nice and all, really useful and meaningful, but have you ever tried sleeping when predators are howling right in your ear? Millions of years of instinct, guys; I was a nervous wreck by the end of the week."

"Why didn't you just stop playing it?" Rafe asked.

"And hurt his feelings?"

Megan shook her head. "You've got it bad, mate."

"Megan!" Blair gaped in surprise that she'd reveal a confidence like that, then flickered a glance at the guys, who didn't seem surprised or disgusted by her statement.

"Oh please, Hairboy, we're not stupid. We figured it out years ago. But better him than me, is all I'm saying. The thought of you in my bed scares me."

"With that war mask over it, it should. I am a deadly man with a soda machine; I could crush you while you slept," Blair joked weakly. "Seriously, guys, please, please, please don't tell Jim. He'd kill me."

"He doesn't know?" asked Rafe. "How could he not know?"

"This is Jim we're talking about here; the man's repressed half his memories. If he doesn't want to see it, it's not there, thank God," said Blair.

Joel shook his head. "I'm not so sure, the way he's always touching you."

"That's what I keep saying," said Megan. "Sandy, you didn't see him when you ... when you drowned. He snapped; he was desperate to bring you back. You're his whole world."

"Yeah," Blair agreed, "I know that, and I know why. But that doesn't mean he wants me gift wrapped and lounging on his Egyptian cotton sheets."

"Sandy, you're letting something wonderful slip through your fingers," said Megan.

"Nice to meet you, Pot, I'm Kettle," said Blair. "If you're so gung ho about saying what you feel, why don't you go ask Simon out?"

"Okay, I take it back!" Megan blushed almost as pink as her shirt. "Forget I said anything, mate."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," said Blair, shaking his head ruefully.

"You two are pathetic," Henri teased. "Seriously, though, Sandburg, just try and think of something Simon would want. Maybe a fishing rod?"

"Thanks, man. I'll think of something."

***

Rafe and Brown ended up pitching in together for a box of really good cigars. Joel got him a fishing rod. Jim handed Simon an envelope that proved to hold season baseball tickets, and said, "This one's from both of us."

"That's okay, man, thanks for wanting to include me, but I got something great for Simon this year." He reached into his backpack and drew it out. "It's something I know you don't have."

Simon looked at the odd, multicolored patchwork and said, "Well, I know I don't have it, but what is it?"

"It's a vest," said Blair, "made of silk ties." He put it on to demonstrate, and turned to Megan with a raised eyebrow. "And you said you'd never see me wear one."

Megan turned beet red. "You wouldn't."

"A promise is a promise," said Blair. "Back me up, guys, you heard her." He grinned at the chorus of agreement behind them.

Her face burning, Megan stepped forward and looked nervously into Simon's bewildered eyes. Then she cupped her hands on either side of his face, leaned in and gave him a sweet, full kiss on the mouth.

For the first few seconds, Simon was stunned, but then his hands came up to caress her back, pull her closer. When they finally broke apart, Simon licked his lips as though to catch a last trace of her, and said softly, "That's the best present anyone's ever given me, Megan."

Henri let out a whoop and high-fived Rafe. Jim turned to Blair. "What the hell was that, Chief?"

Blair grinned, feeling bold. "I'll tell you when we get home, man. I've got some Egyptian cotton sheets to break in."

End.


End file.
